A Change of Heart
by Neko-chan4
Summary: It's categorized as angst, but don't be too worried about that. Team Rocket have been blasted off again, but this time, one of them has been seriously hurt. A POV on reforming a cold heart, as well as a sweet/bittersweet Jesse/James fic. Please read!


Heart's Confessions

A Change of Heart

By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson

Prologue

The gentle sensation of water falling on my face brought me back to consciousness.With a groan that was more out of resignation than of pain, I put a hand to may face to shield it from the rain and rolled to a sitting position to study my surroundings.The terrain was unfamiliar to me but that was understandable.After another attempt to cause damage on that mouthy brat and his friends, we had again been blasted off to who-knows-where in defeat.I sighed bitterly, the familiar taste of humiliation and defeat on my tongue and filling up the dark shadows of my heart.It sometimes seemed that every defeat made me colder and bitterer; each show of emotions other than hatred and revenge seemed more rare and uncharacteristic each passing day.

A familiar, rolling groan hit my ears, turning my attention to a clump of dark bushes to my left.I grimaced in sympathy for the owner of the voice; even in the dim light and pouring rain I recognized them for being a brier patch.

"Where am I?" moaned the Pokémon again, this time putting words to thoughts.His familiar black cat ears and golden medallion, shimmering in the sheet-like gray rain, appeared among the thorny briers, a pair of blue eyes blinking from within the shadows below them in drowsy confusion.

I quickly gave myself a once over, discovering a score of tender bruises and a minor cut above my left eye; blood diluted with rain water running over my eyebrow and the edge of my cheek bone. I dabbed the wound lightly with a finger, wincing at the sharp, screaming pain and climbed slowly and sorely to my feet.

"Meowth," I hissed in a hushed whisper, the dreary scene imparting me to keep the eerie and depressing silence."Are you all right?"

I struggled through the briers with my hands, partly protected from the snagging branches by my thick gloves, searching for the owner of the voice.A tan-white paw clambered its way towards me and I grasped it tightly and roughly pulled.After a bit of resistance from the bush, the cat-like Pokémon tumbled out—thickly covered in searing scratches, his fur tainted pink in areas by his own blood.

We landed awkwardly on the ground, me in a moment of kindness making an effort to catch him in my lap and ease the impact on his battered form.He hissed painfully through his teeth and clung tightly to my waist, seeking comfort from the pain.

"Are you all right?" I repeated, sympathy and benevolence worming its way into my dark heart, thick with anger, hatred, fear and revenge.He nodded his head dully, trying to look brave but I could tell he was on the brink of collapsing.Maybe if it had been me in the briers, it wouldn't have been so bad, but with such a small body, the blood-loss was taking a tremendous toll on him.

He turned his blue eyes on me, clouded over with pain.

"James…" he hissed, struggling to get the words out before the blackness."What about James?"Then his eyes fell shut, his head falling slowly into my lap.I froze momentarily, watching the dreary rain pour down on him like a gray sheet as he lay there, unprotected.

Quickly scooping the Pokémon up, I stumbled numbly to my feet, overwhelming fear gripping my already tortured heart.

"James…" I repeated dully, staring wild-eyed and terror stricken into the disgorge that covered the surrounding area like a concealing shroud.My throat caught tightly.

"JAMES!"

Chapter One 

I ran, ran in circles around the clearing, Meowth out cold and cradled in the crook of my arm while I searched frantically, yelling his name loud enough to echo.

The thought stopped me dead in my tracks.Echoes.Echoes

meant something solid to echo off of.We must have landed in a canyon, or under a cliff.Either way, we were surrounded by rocks.

I gasped sharply, the realization of this discovery hitting me full force, and turned towards the edge of the clearing lined with only a thin ring of bushes and a few thin trees.Gut instinct told me the worst had happened.

Sure enough, after traveling far enough past the circle of brush and far enough into the rain, a rock wall rose up before me.A cliff edge, no doubt, lined with hazardous rocks and black briers twisting their piercing branches up the stone and into the many cracks.I broke into a run.I was still too far away and the rain was too heavy to decipher the dark shadows at the base.

But I didn't have to see, I knew.And I was proved right when I reached the wall.

Crumpled against the side of the rock lay James.His uniform was torn in several places from the sharp rocks and blood streamed down his face from a cut hidden in his hair, running off his cheekbones and staining the collar of his jacket red.I bit back a cry, feeling as if a knife had twisted itself into my heart.

Kneeling beside him, I brushed the stray hair out of his face.He didn't stir; in fact he barely breathed.I choked back a sob.

"James…James can you hear me?" I cried, trying to sound tough but a tremble in my voice betraying myself.My only answer was the gentle thrumming of the rain hitting the rocks and splashing down our faces.

"James!" I screamed, as if begging would make him wake up.He lay still as ever, the blood washing down his face and onto his jacket from the rain.

"I've got to get you out of here," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Taking off my jacket I ripped it into shreds and tied the pieces over his larger wounds.I removed his jacket and threw it into the bushes.If I was going to get him help, it would be best to leave the Boss out of it.Better if they didn't know who or what we worked for—I had learned that the hard way.

Squaring my shoulders, I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him to his feet.

"This is going to be hard," I groaned, cradling him in my arms with some difficulty.

Meowth moaned from the ground where I had left him.I nudged him lightly with the toe of my boot to wake him up.

"Wha…?"

"James is hurt.I'm going to have to carry him so you're going to have to wake up and walk."

The Pokémon moaned painfully and struggled to his feet.

"You found him?"He stumbled unsteadily, catching himself against my leg.

I nodded and looked down at James tightly.He looked so peaceful, like my mother when she—

I jerked slightly, shaking myself out of a dark memory.No!He wasn't dead!And I wasn't going to let him!

"Yeah," I murmured finally, answering the cat's question."Now let's go find a phone booth or something.We'd better get you two some help."

He nodded stiffly, a shadow crossing over his face.And the rain continued to fall in gray, depressing sheets like the shroud of misery that hung over us.

I looked around.The sky had never seemed so blue.Big puffy clouds, waiting for the eager eye to decipher what they were, surrounded us; golden rays of the setting sun reflecting off their pristine white and casting dancing patterns of light along the ground.Happy laughter met my ears and I looked down.James was lying on the ground; hands behind his head and watching the clouds go by, a content expression on his face and a delighted twinkle in his eye.

"Ash?!It looks like a shapeless blob to me, Meowth!" he laughed, studying a cloud indicated by the Pokémon.Meowth sat up, earnestly pointing towards it.

"But look!Dere's the hat, and dere's his hair and dat thing right dere is his thumb givin' a thumbs up."James squinted skeptically.

"Oh, I see it now," he replied with a laugh."We'd best not ever tell the little brat, we don't need him any cockier than he already is."

Meowth snickered.

"I always knew da kid had his head in da clouds."

I smiled and lay back contentedly, relishing the relaxed atmosphere and my partners' and friends' enjoyment.

"Hey, Jesse, what do you think?"

I blinked and turned towards James.Propped up on his side with one elbow, he studied me with an amused look.I smiled back.

"About what?The 'Ash cloud'?"

He chuckled and leaned over me playfully.

"No, that cloud over there," he whispered huskily, pointing to a different point in the sky.I pulled my gaze away from his face and followed his hand.And frowned.

The indicated cloud was dark and foreboding, flickering with ethereal light.I shivered and turned back towards him, balking at his smile, which no longer appeared light and humorous.

"Why that cloud, James?Why the dark one?" I found myself pleading, feeling trapped against the ground by his darkening smile.His eyes narrowed and his grin widened, seeming to darken the very air around us.

"Because, Jesse.Doesn't it remind you of your heart?"

I gasped, the strength of his words burning me like a red-hot iron.

He leaned closer, his malevolent grin turning to a frown of contempt and accusation.

"Your heart, Jesse.Dark and unfeeling.All you ever feel is hate and fear and rage.A hateful heart can't love."

He turned away, as if disgusted by me and I could feel the bitter tears spilling from my eyes.

"A hateful heart can't love," he repeated, like a knife to my soul.Then he pulled away and was gone.

I struggled to wake myself, frantically pulling towards consciousness.Finally the scene went black, the gentle thrum and beep of hospital machinery meeting my ears.Opening my eyes, I chased the start of tears from them.After a few seconds, the whiteness dissolved into a sterile hospital room, a heart monitor on the far side of the only bed in the room sending out a steady, beeping rhythm.I sighed raggedly and hugged myself tightly, trying to forget the horrible dream.

The far door swung open softly, causing me to start in my chair.

"Oh, I'm sorry I startled you, Miss," came a kind voice.A tall, brown-eyed man with short, wavy white hair smiled down at me gently.Dressed in a white lab coat, he carried a clipboard under one arm and walked to the side of the bed.

"Doctor…" I ventured, trying to recall his name.

"Mastison," he finished helpfully, recording some information off of the heart monitor.I got up from my chair and went over to the bed, looking down at James with concern.A large white bandage had been wrapped neatly around his forehead over the cut as well as a few other places on his arms and legs.The peaceful look was still on his face, and my eyebrows knitted with worry.

Dr. Mastison smiled at me sadly.

"You were asleep when we diagnosed him.Would you like the good and bad news, miss…?"

"Jesse," I answered absentmindedly, unable to tear my eyes away from my comatose partner."Just call me Jesse, please."

He nodded in understanding and looked down at his clipboard, a shadow falling over his face.

"Well, the good news is that the cuts, including the one on his temple are minor and not very deep.They'll probably heal in a few weeks and leave no scars at all…"

He trailed off, waiting for me to request the bad news.I merely looked at him, a sinking feeling in my stomach causing me to go cold.

"The bad news…the bad news is whether he wakes up or not.Apparently when he hit his head, it rebounded off the back and caused extreme trauma to the spine and cerebral cortex."

I could feel myself go deathly white.It felt as if a knife had been driven into my heart, punishment for my years of crime and coldness towards others.The only person in the world I actually cared for was going to be taken away from me.

"Isn't there something you can do?!" I cried, an almost crazed tone in my voice.The doctor looked even more regretful, subconsciously running a hand through his thinning hair.

"The best thing we can do now is wait.The damage was concentrated in a delicate spot that is hard to examine without causing more damage.If any more symptoms arise, we may be able to operate but as of now we're not completely sure of what and where the damage is."

I wanted to scream at him.I wanted to punch him in the face for not being able to do anything and just standing there.I bit my lip and looked down at James.This was not a time to let my fear and frustrations control me.I needed to be strong and calm for James.

Taking a deep breath to calm my rattled nerves, I looked up at the doctor.

"I understand, Dr. Mastison.What are his…chances?"

I gripped the edge of the bed with white knuckles.My heart wanted to believe he was going to be all right but I knew I'd have to face the facts, whether they seared or not.

"At the moment, with the information we have, he has a twenty-percent chance of recovery and an extremely slim thirteen-percent chance of survival."

I couldn't take it.I crumbled to my knees, staring forward through blurring vision at no particular point, gripping the sides of the bed so hard my hands shook.

I heard the doctor sigh, a deeply regretful and sympathetic sound, and then he was gone, leaving me to my pain.

Gasping raggedly, I squeezed my eyes shut tight against the tears which still continued to flow freely. 

"James…" I sobbed, grasping one of his hands, which was laid out on the bed.It was warm and I leaned my cheek against it, trying to pretend he was awake and okay.But there was no answering movement and my chest clamped tighter.

"Don't die on me, James!You're not going to die!" I cried harshly, imitating the tone I always used to reprimand him.But it seemed so hollow without his replying cry of terror.

A hollow that echoed in my hate stained heart.

Meowth stared at me in horror, his face white with fear and pain.

"Thirteen…percent?!" he repeated incredibly.I nodded numbly, not wanting to face the facts.He swore lividly and got up from his seat, proceeding to pace the small cafeteria.

I simply stared down at my food, unsure of what to do.One side of me wanted to do the same as him, while the other newer half—developed out of the shock and pain of the last few days—wanted to break down in tears.I was all mixed up and my feelings were split.

After calming down somewhat, he came back over to the table, wincing under his many bandages.

"Did dey tell ya how long he's sposed ta stay in da coma?" he asked, gazing at me with concern.I shook my head.

"No.I forgot to ask," I answered dully, staring down at my full tray—meal now cold and unappetizing.Pushing it away from me in disgust I got up from my seat.

"Well ahm gonna' go ask, den," said Meowth, looking hesitant to leave me in my present condition.Like I would hurt myself while he was gone.

"I'll be fine, you go do that," I replied, trying to muster a smile to assure him.He looked skeptical but left anyway.

The lounge was only a little ways down the hall.I went there, not wanting to have to face James' still form so soon again and being unable to control the pain welling up inside.

It was fairly empty, to my luck—a man pacing near the door and a pair of women sniffling quietly amongst them selves near the back being its only occupants.

I chose a seat on a comfortable couch near the center.The room was comfortably furnished, large cozy couches and stuffed chairs were spread about the room and the walls had been papered in cheery floral designs in an attempt to lighten its dreary occupants' moods.Coffee tables piled with magazines and books were positioned in front of each couch and a TV played silently from its ceiling jack, unwatched by the nervous and devastated occupants.

After what seemed like hours, in which I stared unseeing at the television in vain attempts to forget my reason for being there, Meowth returned, looking angry.

"Bastards!Dey wouldn't tell me anything!Told me dat information was none of my business!Family only, dey said!Wouldn't even tell me when I told 'em I was da family pet!Lousy, goddamn hospital staff…!!"

He flopped down moodily on the couch beside me, his expression softening into worry.

"Jess, are you okay?You've been acting so strangely," he asked with concern, looking up at me with worried eyes.I smiled bitterly.

"Just shocked, I guess.I mean, how many times have we been blown up, fallen off a cliff, crash-landed or been in a car crash without getting seriously injured? What happened differently this time?" I replied, choking on the last words.I looked him in the eye and he was forced to turn away.It must have been the pain in my eyes.It nearly radiated like a furnace.

"Why did it happen?"

Meowth took a ragged breath and turned back to me, looking more serious than I'd ever seen him in my life.

"I dunno', Jess.We'll never understand this sort of thing.All we can do is wait and…"

He trailed off, embarrassed at his newfound sincerity.

"And hope," he concluded after the brief pause, finally looking me in the eye again.I leaned over and hugged him tightly, something I was in desperate need of—a sympathetic shoulder.

Chapter Two 

Two nights later, I had another dream.This time not a vision, but a memory…

I peered through the dark glass into the dimly lit room.An altar stood at the front, surrounded in lavish flower arrangements and candles of all shapes and sizes.I tried to ignore the large, dark brown casket lying with its lid open among the flowers and candle glow, instead focusing on the window lock as James worked away at it with quick precision.

Finally the lock clicked open.James made a quiet sound of triumph and turned to me in the thick darkness, the only illumination the flickering glow of candle light on his face.

"You sure you want to do this, Jess?" he whispered, putting his lock picks away in their appropriate case.I turned my gaze to the candle glow and flowers, finally allowing myself to focus on the casket at the center.Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head.

"Sure.This is something I have to do," I replied calmly, grabbing the edge of the window in my gloved hands.He nodded in approval and helped me lift the window wide enough for the two of us to slip in.

Once inside, a sort of solemn sadness seemed to fall over me.The two of us tiptoed softly to the altar, refraining from speaking.James seemed to have sensed my sudden change in tone and stayed silent, watching me with a look of slight concern.

We reached the altar, and James fell back to give me privacy to do what I had to do—watching the door and window for signs of discovery.

I stared at the flowers and candles; my eyes flitting to the pictures scattered artfully among them but never to the open casket.A woman, beautiful and painfully familiar smiled back gently through the frames and dusts of time—in one, a professional photograph, her chin resting daintily upon a hand; in another, laughing joyfully from the back of a horse; long red hair pulled into a sleek bun at the back of her head, and yet another, smiling youthfully under a white veil next to her new husband as they stood hand in hand, ready to face the world together.And in the last, smiling broadly and proudly with her head perched lovingly upon her young daughter's; the exact replica of her mother smiling happily back at me from along time ago, in a life that was far away and dead.

Bitter tears stinging my eyes, I turned away—wanting desperately to fling the wonderful picture away like I had with my life.Even with my eyes closed, the picture stood burned into my very soul, imparting a deep and ancient guilt, long since buried.

With old wounds burning anew, I allowed myself to look down at the woman in the casket.The same red hair and kind features, cold with death and slightly worn with age.She was smiling in her perpetual sleep, a smile that brought back memories of birthdays, Christmas, swinging in the park.Her musical laughter, filling the cold house in winter as she sang along with the radio while baking the Christmas cookies, laughing at her meager singing talent.Handing the little girl with the red braids her bologna sandwich and sending her outside.

Cradling the same girl in her arms; covered in tender blue bruises, as she cried away the pain in her mother's comforting embrace.And she herself lying on the carpeted floor; curled in a fetal position around her battered body unaware of the little girl watching at the door.Never once crying from the pain—simply lying there while her daughter lay silently sobbing from her hiding place, terrified by her mother's vulnerability.

A strong woman, who'd take on the world for her daughter but never once thought of herself.And then her daughter abandoned her, and she was left with no one to help keep her mind off of the pain, the misery.Like a coward, the daughter ran, leaving the mother to fight it alone.But without her daughter's love and dependency, there was nothing left for her to fight for.Like a beautiful rose, she wilted and crumbled, and finally died.

"Like a coward," I whispered bitterly to myself, hating myself for abandoning her."I left you like the coward I am.And now you're dead."

I hung my head in shame, the guilt welling up in my chest to spill out in the form of tears.They landed on the death-cold cheeks, like jewels upon a queen.She deserved jewels.

"I'm sorry I never made something of myself; never made you proud.You deserved to be proud!But you were treated like the lowest thing that walked the earth, like some sort of lowlife that didn't deserve its humanity!And I did nothing about it, choosing to ignore it instead!And you took it all in stride.I never once heard you complain, or cry out.And I called you a coward!People call me brave, but my cowardice at deserting you dirties the title that should rightfully be yours.You were the bravest most selfless woman I ever knew!You didn't deserve to die!"

I ran my fingers along the familiar cheekbones.I seemed to look like her more and more each day.

"I love you, Mom.And I'm sorry you had to die alone because of my cowardice," I whispered, leaning over and kissing her cold cheek tenderly.

There was a whisper of cloth beside me and I turned to see James standing beside me, a rose in hand.He offered the flower to me—understanding and sympathy shining in his green eyes.

Taking the proffered rose, I lay it gently on the woman's chest between her clasped hands.Immediately a flood of relief and happiness washed over me, a feeling I hadn't felt in years, like a hefty weight being lifted from my shoulders.Straightening my shoulders, I wiped away my tears.

"Let's go.She's in good hands now," I said with a relieved smile, shooting one last glance at the open casket.The photo with the gilded frame caught my eye.Gently, so as not to disturb the floral arrangements, I picked it up and slipped it into my jacket.

"She would have wanted me to have it," I said softly, hurrying after James towards the open window and the night.

I awoke in a cold sweat, sudden terror gripping me with icy fingers.Why had I suddenly dreamed of my mother's death, an event that had happened years before?Then I remembered how the peaceful look on James' comatose face reminded me of the look on my dead mother's, and I scrabbled hastily out of bed.

Being a small hospital, the rooms only had one bed each so I was forced to rent an adjoining room while we waited for James to come out of the coma.Still in my pajamas, I rushed out of the room and tore down the hall, fierce determination and dread fueling me on.

Flinging open the door hastily, I expected to find a dark and silent room.To my relief, the steady thrum of the heart monitor filled the room, along with the soft pale glow of moonlight streaming in through the curtain-less window.

Sighing deeply in relief, I flopped down on my knees beside James' bed, studying his face in the dim light.He looked peaceful but the expression no longer haunted me.Reconciling with my dead mother for the second time had eased the pain of bitter memories.The peaceful expression now gave me a bit of hope.

The moonlight gave the scene a surrealistic glow, playing over James' features and causing him to appear to fade away, as if he was part of the ghostly white light.I reached out a hand and caressed his cheek softly, as if to assure myself that he was real, and not merely a figment of my imagination brought to life by the taunting moonlight.

Tracing my finger up his face, I tried in vain to slide the forever-stubborn strand of hair across his forehead to the side.When it merely swung back in place, swishing softly against my fingers, I smiled sardonically to myself.Perhaps that hair was another sign.If James was half as stubborn, I knew he would make it.

My smile vanished as quickly as it came, reality sinking like a weight upon my shoulders.Thirteen-percent chance rang in my ears.I had an eighty-percent chance of losing the person I cared about most in the world.

"James, if hateful hearts can't love…how come I love you so much?" I whispered hoarsely, resting my head on his chest.The only sound was the gentle beat of his heart in my ear and I watched my tears spill onto the blankets, sparkling jewel-like in the bright moonlight before dissolving into the white sheets in an expanding stain of blue.

Chapter Three 

Someone shaking my shoulder gently awoke me from my first peaceful sleep in a long time.

"Jesse?Wake up, goil!" whispered Meowth urgently.My eyelids fluttered open, balking at the bright light.The cat-like Pokémon was crouched on the bed in front of me, studying me with head cocked.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.I blinked and struggled to my feet, which buckled under me at once.Apparently I had fallen asleep kneeling beside the bed with my head lying on James' chest.Not exactly the most comfortable position and I was definitely feeling proof of that in my back and legs.

"Sort of," I answered, yawning and stretching.He jumped down from the bed, staring up at me impatiently.

"We've got visitors," he said, eyeing my reaction.

I started in surprise.

"Visitors?!But who on earth—"

"We followed Meowth in," interrupted a familiar girl's voice.We both spun on our heels, caught unawares by our uninvited guests.Three people I never would have imagined being there stood before us, clustered somewhat nervously in the doorway.

"What are _you brats doing here?!" I snarled, angered at being caught off-guard.The trio, however, was not fazed; they never were, which only seemed to irritate me more.Couldn't they see we had a crisis on our hands and really didn't need their annoying interference?!_

"We were in the hospital visiting an old friend of Brock's when we saw Meowth sneaking down the hall, so we decided to investigate," continued the girl, a redhead with a short side-ways ponytail and aqua-green eyes.She blushed slightly."We thought he was up to something the way he was sneaking around, but he ended up coming in here and we figured out what he was doing here."

I stood there, caught in an awed shock.No threatening and glaring or combat stances; just somewhat embarrassed concern.It felt like I was being treated like an equal for once in my life; by someone other than James, Meowth or my mother.

Nevertheless, I found myself backing up against James' bed protectively, afraid they were going to pull something on us in revenge for all the times we had tricked or double-crossed them.But they simply stood there, a shadow falling over the girl's face, giving me the impression of someone watching a sad movie.Meowth and I exchanged a worried glance, tinged with awe and shock.

The taller of the two boys stepped forward nervously.

"I know you don't trust us, and we don't trust you, but we're really sorry about James," he said, the words coming out somewhat reluctantly.The younger boy's Pikachu made an agreeing murmur from the boy's hat.Normally I would have tried to think up a scheme to steal the little Pokémon, but now I was too engrossed in the strange situation and James' protection to do anything about it.

"It's kind of…our fault…" murmured the younger boy, even more reluctantly.A hint of a passing expression flickered on the girl's face, somewhere between smug victory and pride.

"You…want to…apologize?" I stammered, my shock doubling at the priceless admittance.Perhaps if told during a different situation I would have gloated and savored the moment, but at the moment in only seemed to shock me into immobility.

The girl nodded in answer.

"Just call this a momentary truce, until James gets better," she said, extending her hand invitingly.I wavered, caught between my hate for the three friends and the thought of a temporary peace from all the fighting.

"Never, you old hag!"

"Yuck!Double yuck!"

"Don't you ever get tired of saying the same things over and over again?!"

"What are you clowns up to this time?"

"You guys hanging around again?"

"AAAAGH!!!ZOMBIES!!!!"

And another voice, stinging more than their childish insults of days gone by:

"Hateful hearts can't love."

The remembered words stung hard and deep, but resolved my uncertainty.With grateful enthusiasm, I took the redhead's proffered hand and shook it firmly.

"A truce," I replied, allowing myself to smile for the sake of the moment.I really didn't want to, but James' dream-self's words had struck me deep.I had been living in too much hate, revenge, anger and fear.It was time to take the proffered hand of forgiveness, temporary or not, and dig myself out.

The two boys seemed shocked, glancing at the two of us shaking hands and then back at one another.Meowth seemed similarly shocked as he watched the silent handshake, an unreadable expression on his catty face.Amazement, disgust and even a tinge of relief seemed to flicker across his features, dissolving into a completely different expression before the reader had a chance to decipher the first.The girl, however, smiled back at me with genuine human compassion and forgiveness, obviously trusting more in the human heart than her two companions.I suppressed a giggle at the memory of how I had used to call her a "scrawny little brat".

The next moment I was searching my hands for my voice, struggling hard with the words struggling in the back of my throat.

"Thank you…for caring.No one else would have," I murmured, the color rising in my cheeks, and I turned away to glance at James lying peacefully in his hospital bed; hands lying neatly at his sides on the smooth covers and that one stray, blue hair arching elegantly over the stiff white bandage.

The girl followed my gaze, her face becoming overcast with sympathy and I felt another pang of gratefulness towards my former enemy.She turned towards me and I could read deep sincerity and compassion in her aqua-green eyes.

"Is it bad?"

I opened my mouth to answer but the words lodged in my throat, forcing burning tears to my eyes.Dropping my eyes to my gloved hands, I nodded my head dully instead, feeling the familiar and dull ache rise again to my chest.

During this entire small exchange, her two companions had stood uncomfortably some feet behind us—having crept uneasily from their doorway position—unsure of what to do.Similar expressions of sympathy were mirrored on their faces, but unlike their friend, they felt at a loss at how to show it.

I turned to them, causing the younger of the two to subconsciously lay a protective hand over the little Pokémon perched upon his hat and I smiled, somewhat bitterly.

"Old habits die hard, huh Brat?" I asked, a sardonic tone to my voice.He blinked momentarily, unsure of what to make of my light jest, then grinned tentatively.

Yes, old habits do die hard.But they die, all the same.And I was working at it, slowly and surely.Because hateful hearts can't love…

But reformed hearts can.

Chapter Four 

Three nights went by, un-plagued by nightmarish dreams or forgotten memories.I had abandoned all attempts at trying to sleep in the separate room, worrying constantly over the chance that James could slip away while I was far away down the hall and sleeping unawares.I began curling up in the large, over-stuffed chair in the corner of his room; pulled up next to his bed so that I could keep constant watch over him.Eventually even the chair was abandoned, choosing instead to curl up next to him on top of the covers; head resting above the curve of his shoulder and fingers curled child-like over his heart.And the nightmares stayed away.But only for a little while.

I was standing in a cramped, dark room, surrounded by people.The only light in the room was a few weak rays of moonlight shining over the many heads and shoulders packed tightly together.The whole mass seemed to moan, a few crying from somewhere behind me.I struggled my way through them, terror rising in my throat.I could smell them, rotten like death and the heat of their breath—though hot—chilled me to the bone.

I struggled my way towards the moonlight, hoping for some sort of escape at the source of the light.All I found was a tiny window at the far wall, high and out of reach.The moaning rose into a wailing, and then a nightmarish scream, and I began to cry, terrified and trapped under the tiny window.

"You have to widen it," came the redhead's voice as she appeared out of the crowd to my left.She took my hand and shook it, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared, and I turned back to the window.All of a sudden it was a doorway to a balcony.I could see plush lawns spread out beyond the rails, bathed in cold, silver light and the fragrance of roses touched my nostrils.With another glance, I saw that the dark red flowers were growing in huge, neatly trimmed bushes up the side of the wall and along the balcony railing; the blossoms glowing eerily with an odd sort of inner light.

And standing amid the heavily perfumed bushes, leaning against the balcony railing was James.He was dressed in brown dress slacks, white dress shirt and emerald green vest, and he looked straight at me, sending an odd sort of thrill up my spine.

I went to follow him onto the balcony but some invisible force stopped me at the doorway.I gasped, panicking, and tried in vain to go through the doorway.I could hear the room of people screaming at one another in some strange tongue and panic gave way to complete terror.I crumbled to my knees against the invisible wall and cried out towards my partner."James!Help me!You have to help me!"The terror enveloped me, and I shuddered violently; deep, choking sobs racking my body.I desperately wanted to run to him, have him hold me and ease the fear away but the goddamned invisible wall stayed firm, causing me to cry even more miserably.

He simply stood there, staring at me through unseeing eyes, a peaceful expression on his moonlit face, then turned away.The moonlight seemed to brighten, then he and the balcony were gone, leaving me crumpled in a miserable heap in the dark room, surrounded by the unnerving room of groaning and screaming people.

And then I was gasping myself awake, bathed in a cold sheen of sweat.My head was still resting under the curve of his neck against his shoulder and I could see my fingers curled comfortingly against his chest.I cried in relief, burying my head in his unresponsive shoulder.I wished he were really _there, comforting me, saying it was only a dream and would I please go back to sleep now?He had always been good at that: comforting._

"Well…Jesse, I hope that this time will be different!"

"Since you didn't get the real doll set…" 

The Princess Day Contest came back to me.How he'd cried lightly at my sad remembrance of poverty and grasping my hands, had wished me luck in the contest.

"I hope you win those dolls, Jess!"

And then how he'd dressed himself and our Pokémon up to look like the dolls when I lost.The memory of that caring action caused me to smile to myself in the dark room.

With that thought, more old memories resurfaced.Him happily holding a slingshot and grinning triumphantly, laughing gleefully as a score of Butterfree's fell into our open net, rocking me back and forth in an ecstatic hug as it appeared that we would win for once, tangoing beside our most recent trap as we proudly proclaimed our motto.I smiled at the memories, few being bitter, as they flashed like pictographs before my eyes.

And then I was crying with realization, an exhausted sort of tearful gasping that clenched my chest.

My tears put me to sleep.

Dr. Mastison was flipping through the many sheets on his clipboard, an amazed look crossing his face.

"I…I can't…This is unbelievable!" he muttered to himself, staring at the notes he and his nurse had taken just a couple minutes earlier.

I leaned forward intently, clutching the edges of the bed in my clammy hands for support.

"What?!" I cried, "What is it?!"An overwhelming excitement filled me.In fact, it seemed to permeate the very air, as if the entire room was holding its breath.

The elderly doctor didn't look up, still flipping through his papers in disbelief.

"His…his stats!His heartbeat's jumped to regular and his REM movements have gone up!" he said in awe, shaking his head at the papers in amazement."It's like he's no longer in a coma, but a deep sleep!"

The excitement rose, threatening to overwhelm me.Holding on to what control I had left, I looked him straight in the eye.

"You mean he's going to make it?" I whispered, afraid to use a louder voice for fear I would shout.The doctor seemed to look at me like I was stupid, snorting lightly in sharp laughter.

"I would be shocked if he didn't," he replied.I took his answer as the direct equivalent of a "Duh!" but thought nothing of it, too excited with James' inevitable recovery to mind being slightly insulted.Instead I stood there, amazement and joy on my face, gasping and laughing in relief.My legs eventually became too shaky from the excitement and I fell back heavily into my chair.

"When should he wake up?" I asked, looking up at the doctor questioningly.Mastison seemed flustered but fluttered hastily through his notes.Scanning them lightly out of the corner of his eye, he turned to me, "We're not sure, because this sort of thing has never happened.Possibly in a day or two.But that's not definite; things could still change for the worse."

But I doubted it.I doubted it with my entire heart.

Looking down at James (Dr. Mastison was in serious need of some time alone) I could already see the change.His face had darkened, the peaceful look gone, his forehead furrowing slightly as if plagued by bad dreams.

I took his hand and squeezed it affectionately.

"Don't worry, James.The nightmares will be over in a little while."

It could have been the lighting, or even just my imagination, but his features seemed to relax slightly.

Three days later, James came out of his coma.

I was sitting in the hospital cafeteria—a small room with only a few tables, a microwave and a fridge—contemplating a questionable looking turkey-on-rye when a flighty little nurse with elbow length cotton-candy pink hair tapped me on the shoulder nervously.

"Excuse me, miss!" she tittered, smiling winningly.I wanted to punch her prissy little face in; couldn't she see I was busy?!

"Yeah?" I remarked coldly.Cotton Candy seemed surprised.I had been at the hospital for over a week and never been curt with the staff, perhaps upset but always accompanied by wild worried eyes and shaky tears.The incident with James had shattered my usually abrupt and cold misdemeanor, but with that threat nearly gone, my attitude had slowly changed back from tearful, silent and worried, to sharp, indifferent and impatient.Not that I was no longer worried, but my natural defenses had finally kicked in after the news of James' improvement and I covered over my worry and pain with my familiar cold indifferent shell.It occurred to me suddenly that I had gone backwards in my effort to heal my heart, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came.No, I had only toughened up.It was still healing; my heart was more open and responsive than it had been since I could remember, but I was no longer in the shattering stage caused by the accident.

"I mean, yes?" I corrected hastily, smiling sheepishly at the confused nurse.She smiled back somewhat nervously, still a little startled by my snappy retort.

"Uh…are you Jesse?"

I nodded, a tiny shot of suspicious excitement worming its way into my mind.

"It's James, your partner.He's come out of the coma and has been asking for you quite adamantly, miss," she informed me.She blinked, eyes widening."M-miss?!"

I didn't answer.I was about halfway down the hall at the moment, running in a wild dash, a huge relieved grin on my face.

I skidded to an unsteady stop in front of James' hospital room, my arms pin-wheeling wildly in an effort to keep my balance, then burst into the room, nearly running over another nurse who had been turning to leave.She screamed, startled, and jumped back.

I smiled sheepishly."Er…sorry about that!" I apologized hastily, skirting around her and into the room.She grimaced at me nervously, slightly pale, and hurried out of the room in a somewhat panicky flurry, causing me to grin mischievously.

Dr. Mastison was standing beside James' bed, said person sitting up with one hand to his head.The two of them looked at me in a kind of dumb shock, a hint of humor in James' expression.

"Um…hi…Jesse…" said James slowly, looking a little nervous at my almost destructive enthusiasm.I calmed myself a bit and perched on the edge of his bed.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, smiling brightly.James grimaced and rubbed his head sorely, looking at me through one eye.

"Like I ran into a freight train head-on," he moaned, the familiar whine seeping into his voice.I laughed lightly, feeling like my heart would burst with happiness.He had made it!Though I had insisted he would from the beginning, I was still ecstatic with the fact that he had.

The doctor smiled warmly at us, then gathered up his equipment.

"I'll leave you two to yourselves.The nurse will be back in a few minutes with your medicine, James.Just buzz us if you need anything else," he said, turning to leave.

"Doctor Mastison."

He turned, blinking.

"Thank you," I said, deep sincerity showing in my eyes.He smiled benevolently down at me and ran a hand through his thinning hair, reminding me of a grandfather modestly receiving his grandchild's admiration.Then he nodded, turned and left.

James turned to me, a serious expression on his face.

"Are you alright, Jesse?You're acting strange," he remarked, looking at me strangely.

Before I could answer, the nurse came back with his aspirin.He took them gratefully and she left.

I smiled wanly at him."I was worried about you.The doctor said there was a big chance that you…wouldn't make it."

He looked uncomfortable at that thought, then a look of shock crossed his face.

"You were worried about me, Jess?" he said softly, his voice hinting amazement and delight.I nodded, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks.

He leaned back, looking shocked and touched.

Before he could say anything else, I leaned across the bed and hugged him tightly.

"I'm glad you're okay," I whispered, burying my head into his shoulder so he wouldn't see my tears.

And then his arms were wrapping around me and he was hugging me back, causing me to cry even more.After a week of nightmares, and fear and missing him, he was finally back to comfort me like he always did.At the moment, it was good enough for me.

Afterwards

In another week, James was allowed to go.His cuts had almost completely healed, as to be invisible, and all that was left of the blow to his head was a weak headache that surfaced every once in a while.Basically, James was back to his regular, whiny self.No complaints here, of course.

"Ow!Jesse, you can't hit me, I've got a headache!"

"Well stop whining so much!You're giving _me a headache!"_

"Share the wealth!" he tried to sneer, but it came out as a timid remark in which he crossed his arms over his head in a fetal position, in case I should decide to hit him again.

Meowth sighed, shaking his head like a middle-aged father as if to say, "Kids!"He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at us, the beginnings of a smile peeking through his stern expression.

"You two fight like a married couple!" he retorted, looking completely serious.James and I paused and looked down at him, all wide eyes and glares.

"WHAT?!"

Are faces had gone pure red, whether out of embarrassment or anger I really wasn't sure.Meowth backed away, snickering.

"I said—" but he was cut off as I leaped for him and he was forced to make a hasty retreat.James hit the ground beside me as he dove for him too, making a loud 'oof' as he hit the concrete.

"YAAA-AAGH!" screamed the cat-like Pokémon, arms and legs pin-wheeling madly.Soon he was off in a cloud of smoke, the two of us yelling and threatening after him.

We lay there on our stomachs, watching him go propped up by our forearms as we tried to catch our breaths.

"He probably thinks we're right behind him," commented James matter-of-factly, not looking at me.There was a moments pause, then the two of us collapsed in laughter, rolling about the cool pavement. 

"It's nice to know some things don't change," I sighed, lying on my back.The sky was a bright, cheery blue covered in fluffy white clouds.Something like déjà vu hit me but I ignored it, simply enjoying the moment of rare, worry-less peace.

"But some things _can change, right?" I heard James ask, a kind of hopeful question.I turned to him, a slightly confused expression on my face, and nodded slowly._

"Of course.Some change is good," I replied, turning my gaze back to cloud watching.Suddenly a shadow was blocking my view.I gasped, startled and a bit excited.Not a shadow—James.He was leaning over me, an intent expression on his face.

"Like what kind of changes?" he asked, his voice almost a husky whisper.The same enticing voice from my dream.My stomach fluttered nervously, my heart feeling like it was going to jump into my throat.

"I don't know," I replied in a shaky voice, unable to tear my eyes away from his face.I could feel a deep blush creeping up my face and a similar bit of color was appearing across his own.I suddenly realized the courage he had had to build up to do what he was doing, and my nervousness fell away, an overwhelming feeling of compassion and admiration replacing it.

He was about to speak, but wrapping my arms around his neck, I leaned up and kissed him deeply.He seemed to sigh, as if greatly relieved, and then fell into my embrace, returning the kiss with enough passion to make my head reel.

Above us, the perfect white clouds rolled silently by in the clear sky, the only witnesses to change.Not a single gray cloud touched the glass like blue, leaving the clouds unmarred by darkness.And it was perfect.

Because hateful hearts can't love.And all such hearts were gone.


End file.
